A Beautiful Life After Post-Adoption Depression

The story I’m sharing today is my battle with depression and anxiety that intensified after our first two adoptions (i.e. post-adoption depression). This subject is, unfortunately, not often talked about. Families who experience post-adoption depression and anxiety are often ashamed to share because adoption is a life they chose. They are hesitant to talk about the hard in their journey. No one wants to be the person who speaks out about the ugly side of such a beautiful subject!

The purpose of this post is to drag that darkness into the light. Post-adoption depression is NOTHING to be ashamed of. As in so many areas of struggle in my life, God used my vulnerability during this time to make Himself known. Both to me and to those around me. This topic deserves to be talked about. But it’s important to say that this specific post is the story of a broken Mama and her healing; not the story of her adopted sons or their shortcomings. I would NEVER want my sons to think this struggle had anything to do with their worth or value. Our boys are such precious kids and we have always taken delight in having them as our sons.

the uninvited guest…Post-adoption depression

I live a full life, with a terrific husband and 8 tiny (and some not so tiny) people; ages 18, 15, 10, 9, 8, 6, 6, & 2. Our days are filled with schooling and giggles and meals and laundry. With a sprinkling of tears and forgiveness thrown in for good measure. My husband and I married in 1999 and had three biological children. We began the process to adopt a child from China in December of 2012. One child turned into two and, 12 months later, we prepared to board a plane to China. Our one and two-year-old sons would soon be in our arms and we were thrilled!

In hindsight, I think my battle with post-adoption depression/anxiety began sometime during that 15-hour plane ride to Asia. Which I know sounds funny, considering we were still pre-adoption at that point. However, by the time we landed in South Korea (in route to Beijing), a heaviness had settled in my chest. Fear threatened to steal every next breath from my lungs. A loud inner voice chanted: “You are too far away.” “If your kids need you, it will be days before you could get to them.” “What if something terrible happens to them while you’re gone?” “What are you doing here?” “Something terrible IS going to happen.” “What if this decision to adopt ruins everything?”

These phrases and questions played like a record in my mind during the 17 days that we were in China. Over and over and over… taunting me for my horrible decision to leave my children back home in America. And maybe even for my decision to interrupt our “perfect” life in the first place. Waiting to board the plane to Beijing, I had the first of many (in country) panic attacks. I couldn’t remember why we had flown around the world to begin with because I was so full of fear.

Post-adoption depression – my new normal

The day our sons were placed in our arms played out in much the same way. Twelve months had led up to this moment. And yet I wanted to run down the streets of Zhengzhou as far as my legs could take me. “What if I’m not enough for these children?” “What if they don’t even like me?” “And what if they need more from me than I have to give them?” When I look back at pictures of this smoggy day in December 2013, I see as much fear in my eyes as I see in theirs.

I think I held onto the hope that things would get better once our adoption trip was over. But that was not at all what I experienced. Our first 18 months as a family of 7 were some of the hardest I have ever lived through. One of our boys screamed through most of our adoption trip and a good portion of the 36 hours home. He also cried the majority of his first 6 months in our house. This tiny boy wanted absolutely nothing to do with me and wouldn’t even walk past me in a room for 3 months. And he refused to let me pick him up for longer than that. He only tolerated my touch (with clear distain) for a full year.

Those months were the darkest period of my life. I questioned how this would ever work out in a way I could live with. I couldn’t see God working and I had ZERO trust that our story would have a happy ending. All I knew was my many expectations had put me at a disadvantage to parent toddlers who’d experienced so much trauma. I was fully trained that our boys may dislike me. However, I never expected to feel so disconnected from them. Or to wonder every day if I would ever love them the way they deserved to be loved. The adoptive community loves to quote Joel 2:25 where the Lord promises Israel, “I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten.” I just couldn’t shake the feeling that the locusts were continuing to plague one of my boys, even during his first year in my care.

Signs of post-adoption depression

• Excessive guilt (including guilt regarding having the child while birth family does not)
• Feeling inadequate or undeserving
• The inability to enjoy activities you once loved
• Feeling powerless, worthless, or hopeless
• Anger, frustration, irritability
• The inability to concentrate or carry on normal tasks
• Loss of energy, drive, or ambition
• Changes in sleep patterns
• Fluctuations in weight
• Retreating from friends, family, or other sources of support

What I wish I had known During my battle

• MESSY STORIES ARE STILL BEAUTIFUL. I made many mistakes during our first months home with our boys. One was thinking that, if a “leap of faith” story doesn’t “end” with happily ever after, it shouldn’t be told. So, I stayed silent. I told myself that not wanting to return to church and community activities was to protect my boys. But the truth was, I just didn’t want to have to answer the question “How are things going?” I couldn’t imagine anyone wanted to hear a story that had so much mess and so many loose ends. And I had no idea how I was going to pull myself out of this darkness.

• DON’T ISOLATE – FIND YOUR PEOPLE AND LET THEM LOVE YOU WELL. Our faith community, family, and friends had all rallied around us in such an amazing way to help get our boys home. But most of them seemed to think the hard part was over once we landed on American soil. The truth was, our battle for our boys’ hearts was just BEGINNING. And bonding with an adopted child does not always come easy. I am so thankful to have a few close Adoptive Mom friends who were a lifeline during this time. But even a social media group can be a listening ear!

• THERE IS NO RIGHT WAY TO DO THIS. All of the adoptive families I followed on social media and in blogs seemed to portray a life that just wasn’t the one I was now living. I carried so much guilt for the things I felt I wasn’t doing “right” (whatever that meant) and the feelings I was yet to feel towards my new sons. Guilt for all the ways I felt like I didn’t measure up; that I just wasn’t “enough”. Guilt for all the feelings that I knew were perpetuating my sense of hopelessness. The truth is…all of these feeling were valid. I had every right to the way I felt. But the guilt was destructive and definitely not productive. I so wish I would have given myself more grace and patience.

• FAKE IT TILL YOU MAKE IT. I actually did know about this concept but I didn’t follow through with it very well. The thought behind “fake it till you make it” is that you go through the motions of taking care of your adopted child on a daily basis. You do all the things you have been taught to do. You SHOW UP for your child. And then, eventually, the love follows the actions. I felt so rejected by one of my sons that I began to avoid him like he was avoiding me. I should have held him more. And I should have rocked him to sleep (even if he didn’t want me to). I should have fought to break down the barriers of his tiny heart.

The Final Straw

In May of 2016, after a day of more “hard” than I thought I could handle, I sat next to my husband on the couch. I blurted out that I thought our children would be better off without me as their mom. If I couldn’t figure out how to parent our boys through the darkness of depression and anxiety, and if this guilt was going to be my constant companion, then they would be better off if I wasn’t here with them. I could see on his face how much those words shocked and horrified him, but they also shocked and horrified me much more than I expected. At some point I had become resolute that this situation could not be changed.

That night, I clinched my teeth and decided that my new way of living was not okay. My husband deserved more. My biological kids deserved more. And my tiny boys deserved more. But most of all, I deserved more. If healing was ever going to take place, and if I was ever going to attach to my sons, then something had to change.

taking steps towards healing

I shared all of this to say, we serve a God who loves to restore and heal His children! Upon a lot of soul searching, prayer, research, and input from doctors, I came to a better realization that I have dealt with acute anxiety since childhood. This anxiety is exacerbated by traumatic events (but none so traumatic as my first-year post-adoption). I made an appointment to see my doctor, who prescribed anti-anxiety medication. Obviously, medication in and of itself is not the magical cure for post-adoption depression, acute anxiety, or much of anything else for that matter. I am also very stringent about self-care, prayer, reaching out to friends, staying in community, etc. However, medication has cleared my head enough that I can usually tell the difference between having a bad day and being a bad mom.

The guilt still rears its ugly head from time to time, but the quietening of the chaotic self-talk has allowed space for Jesus to whisper words of truth. 7 years later, I still struggle with attachment to one of my boys (and he to me). But the Lord has caused new growth to bloom on dead branches. Because of this, I am no longer silent about or ashamed of my struggles.

I said in the beginning that this is MY story (and has nothing to do with my children), but that’s not even totally true. This is God’s story that He invited me to play a part in. It’s messy and beautiful and broken and is in the process of being restored. And He is still working in and through it… today, tomorrow, and always.

our god wastes nothing

Looking back on our first adoption trip, I barely recognize the faces of my sons. They have come so far over the past 7 years, as have I. I refused to believe the lies that I was undeserving to mother my 5 treasures and I put in the work to restore my health. Because of that, God added two precious daughters to our family through Chinese adoption in June 2016 and July 2017 and a beautiful baby son whom we adopted domestically in June 2018.

I continue to have the pleasure of experiencing firsthand that we have a God who is always at work because He is so very passionate about us. What “the locust ate” will be redeemed and restored in all of our lives. Nothing our boys have experienced and nothing I have experienced will be wasted because our God truly wastes nothing and I pray that we will use every bit of it to make Him known and for His glory.

Helpful Resources…

• “Sometimes Love is War” – No Hands But Ours
• “Alone No More – Recognizing Post-Adoption Depression”
• “Overcoming Post-Adoption Depression Syndrome”
• Click to read more about our family’s story here!

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